Page 7 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

DASAN

A few months ago, I stopped by Felton’s house to check up on him and found him doing yoga. He sheepishly explained that yoga isn’t just for the body but also for meditative purposes. He’d started doing it to ease some of his stress.

Even though he was trying not to be self-conscious about this, I’ve known Felton for years. I could hear it in his voice and see it in the way his shoulders stiffened as he explained why he was doing it. Ren was just inside, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“You have a second mat?” I asked.

His eyebrows knitted together. “Uh… yes?”

“Is that a question or an answer, Fel?”

“I have a few,” he said, then he headed back to the house. While he disappeared inside, I texted Willits and told him to go buy a yoga mat and come to Felton’s. When I looked up again, Ren was still watching me from inside, his hands in his pockets, always protecting Felton, which was fine.

I’d been protecting Felton first, though admittedly, nowhere near as well as he was. I needed Felton to tell me what was wrong and what he needed help with. Mistakenly on my part. That wasn’t what he needed.

Felton returned with a mat and offered it to me. I unrolled it beside his and waved him on, telling him to start with easy positions. Willits arrived a few minutes later, yoga mat in hand, and joined us on the lawn.

Felton didn’t say anything, but I didn’t miss the tears in his eyes before he bowed his head to hide them.

It doesn’t take a lot to be a good friend.

It’s even easier to hurt a friend when they share a vulnerable piece of themselves and you choose to be an ass about it—even if you don’t intentionally mean your teasing to come lined with thorns.

I’m not sure where the breakdown is, but people suck at reading the room lately, and it fucking shows.

It would have been easy to tease Felton about yoga, but I know Felton, and especially because I took him off guard, it would have hurt him had I done so.

Felton is one of those guys who puts on the bravest face to hide the mountains of hurt that have lived in him his entire life.

He wears a smile like a shield. He laughs loudly to take the attention away from the cracks in his armor.

But that’s when he’s prepared for the world. Me coming into his house unannounced wasn’t one of those times.

I’d never done yoga before that day, however, it’s something the three of us often do together now—at least once a week but oftentimes more. It’s soothing, calming, and it certainly helps blood flow and maintains flexibility. All things important to a hockey player.

“My sister is coming to town with her girlfriend,” Willits says as we change poses.

We also use this time to catch up and just talk. In all the years I’ve been friends with these two, it’s only in the last several months since we began yoga that I’ve truly gotten to know them. And Felton has finally opened up about the depths of what he’s been going through.

It’s honestly a good thing that Ren showed up when he did. He’s handling Felton’s family. Had I known the extremes of what’s been going on with Felton, I’d have gone all raging bull to protect the soft heart that he possesses.

Ren’s method is far calmer and definitely more direct. Getting Van Doren lawyers involved is an amazing power move. One I wouldn’t have thought of, never mind had the connections to make happen.

“I can’t tell if you’re excited about that or not,” Felton says.

“I love my sister, but from what my family says about her girlfriend, I’m not necessarily looking forward to them staying in my house for a week.”

“You said your family wasn’t on board with your sister being gay,” I point out. “Could it be a biased opinion?”

Willits nods. His sister didn’t formally come out.

She simply showed up with her girlfriend one day, and that was that.

As it should be, in my opinion. However, their parents’ response needed some work.

I’m not sure that they’re homophobic exactly.

I think that they were caught off guard and unsure how to respond.

“I still think you should show up with a boyfriend and experience it firsthand,” I say, “for research purposes. And then you’ll know if it’s the breakdown in their relationship or a homophobic response.”

Felton nods in agreement.

Willits nods too. “I think I’ll wait until after their visit to decide, but I’ve been thinking about that.” He meets my eyes. “You free for a fake boyfriend gig?”

I laugh, and my thoughts immediately turn to Shively. Am I?

My mind wanders back to the mountain last weekend, and a flood of memories vie for attention. The first night when Shiv followed me, I fucked him against the rock twice. Then I felt a little nauseous afterward since we didn’t use a condom.

I did pull out before orgasming. Both times. In plenty of time, too. However, he begged for me to stick it back in both times so he could come on my dick, which obviously I did. God, the way he howls is intoxicating. I can still feel the way his body squeezed around my cock until I saw stars.

The following day, we snuck off no less than three times, and that man sucked my dick like he had a degree in it. It wasn’t until that evening when I brought condoms and fucked him several times that I realized he never put his hands on me—something we needed to work on but not then.

I haven’t talked to him since.

That’s not true, I suppose. I called him the next morning once I got home to make sure he was okay. The way he told me how sore he was, I could hear the grin in his voice. He was almost… proud. The memory still makes me smile.

But that’s the last time I’ve spoken to him outside of hockey.

I need him to make some kind of move, though I understand that’s entirely out of his comfort zone.

That’s not his personality. It’s his hockey personality but not his submissive personality.

I don’t want to push him, which reminds me of how he struggles with telling me what he wants.

It’s always that he wants what I want, which, in this situation, simply isn’t going to work.

And thus, I wait. Frustratingly. Impatiently. Eagerly.

“Where did we lose you?” Willits asks, breaking into my thoughts. “I did say fake boyfriend, right?”

I flash him a smile. “Sorry. Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I think you have a secret,” Felton says.

We change positions again, and I feel the stretch in my back. I love that feeling. Not a painful stretch but enough that I can actually feel it.

“You’re ignoring us again,” Willits says when I don’t respond.

I laugh. “Sorry. I’ve hooked up with someone a couple times, and I’m waiting for them to give me some kind of indication of where they’re at.”

“That seems rather unlike you,” Felton says.

“No, wait. You didn’t hear that, did you, Fel? He was vaguely gender neutral, which I’m going to guess means he’s been hooking up with a guy.”

“What makes you say that?” Felton asks.

“Because he’s never been gender neutral before. He’s always said she.”

“Maybe this person is genderfluid. Or agender. Or transgender. Or?—”

“Okay, okay,” Willits says, interrupting Felton. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Shaking my head, I chuckle. “I didn’t realize I was being neutral. Yes, a guy. As far as I know, he/him pronouns since I’ve never been told otherwise.”

“Okay, cool. Now my observation. It’s very unlike you to let someone come to you when you’re interested in them,” Felton says.

I chew the inside of my lip as we adjust again. After a minute, I take a seat on my mat and drink some water. “This is a different situation.” Felton and Willits exchange a look, and I roll my eyes. “Are you familiar with dom/sub relationships?”

“Ohhh,” Willits says, grinning.

Felton beams. “That’s kind of what Ren and I have, though we don’t quite have that lifestyle.”

“That’s entirely contradictory,” Willits says, laughing.

“No. I mean, he sets rules and boundaries and makes decisions for me. He has expectations, and I answer to him. All of that is a submissive role, with Ren being the dominant role. It’s just that we don’t really have honorifics and…

” Felton tips his head to the side. “I guess I just feel like it’s different, but maybe it’s not all that different. ”

I pat his arm. “It is whatever you say it is. No one else gets to tell you about your own relationship.”

Felton smiles. “Tell us about your thing.”

I shake my head. “There’s really not a whole lot to tell.

We fell into the beginnings of dom/sub structure from the start, and everything out of his mouth is very attentive to my needs and desires which means I don’t get a lot of what he actually wants outside of pleasing me.

So I can’t just ask him if he wants to get together again because his answer is ‘I do if you want to’ which isn’t helpful. This can’t be just my decision.”

For various reasons, but not least of all, hockey. We’re risking a lot by fucking around, and if we decide to take a risk, it can’t be my decision alone.

I don’t share this, though.

“This may come across as insulting because it’s a trick used with children, but I have a suggestion—it helps me when something comes up that Ren thinks I need a voice in.

Don’t give him something open-ended. Give him options to choose from, including ones that you don’t like the outcome of, such as you not getting together again. ”

“That’s a good idea,” Willits says.

Felton smiles. It’s been in the last couple months that we’ve realized Felton needs affirmation from his friends sometimes too.

Not just from Ren. Once I shared this with Willits, we made it a point to do so.

It’s so humbling knowing that a man as big and intimidating as Felton can be so soft and fragile.

“It is a good idea,” I agree. “Thanks.”

“Not to get TMI, but like… he services you only?” Willits asks.

I grin. “No. Sometimes but not always. How familiar are you with the lifestyle?”

Willits shrugs. “Not incredibly. I’m aware in the sense that those words are familiar, and I have a basic understanding like how the dom is in charge of the sub.”

“It’s far more complicated than that, and I’m not going to pretend I’m an expert.

I’ve never actually lived the lifestyle, but my interest has always moved in that direction.

It just felt like it got in the way of hockey, and finding someone interested in the same thing isn’t easy.

Anyway, as I was going to say... A lot of subs’ roles revolve around the devotion of serving their dom in whatever way they establish, fulfilling their needs, desires, fantasies, whatever.

This isn’t a conversation we’ve had; it’s just a role that came naturally.

We’ve only talked about body autonomy and saying no. Otherwise, it’s just been sex.”

“Do you tie him up?” Willits asks.

I roll my eyes. “Not all dom/subs practice rope play.”

“Okay, but I’m asking if you do.”

“No. I don’t have any true intention of it unless he expresses interest.”

“Isn’t that fulfilling his desires though?” Felton asks.

“Doesn’t Ren fulfill your desires, Fel?” I counter.

He tilts his head to the side then grins. “He does.”

“I’m probably a soft dom, meaning I prefer communication and… trust. Emotional connection. I want his acts of service, definitely, but I also need to know his desires so I can meet them too.”

“Probably a soft dom?” Willits asks.

“Again, I haven’t lived the lifestyle. In reading about BDSM, dom/sub specifically, and knowing myself, I think that’s where I fall.

Especially now that I’ve met someone that seems to also fall within this role with me.

But I’ve never done a scene or so much as spoken to anyone else in the lifestyle. ”

“That’s cool,” Felton says, grinning again.

“It is. I expect updates. I’m fascinated about this.”

I huff and get up again to continue our yoga. Until now, I hadn’t realized that Felton and Willits stopped when I sat down, but they join me again as I move into my next pose.

I think about Felton’s suggestion to give Shively choices. That means I need to come up with choices to offer him. They need to be fulfilling for both of us, but there also needs to be one that gives Shively an out if he wants it.

There’s a part of me that’s surprised when I realize the idea that he might not want to continue this is incredibly disappointing to the point where my chest feels tight at the thought that this relationship might have already run its course. Maybe that’s why I haven’t heard from him.

I don’t actually think that’s the case though. I know how nervous he is about hockey and the possibility that we might get caught. It would jeopardize our careers. Maybe his more than mine since he’s in the supervisory role.

That means I should probably end it now for his sake. Is the chance to live this lifestyle worth risking either of our jobs? There will be others. Other opportunities, other people, other times in life when the situation around us isn’t quite so… precarious.

But I don’t think I want anything with anyone else.

I want Shively, and I want this now. With him.

I don’t for a minute think that it was an accidental coincidence that put us in the same place at the same time, wanting the same thing.

It’s not simply serendipity that presented me with the perfect sub that I’ve specifically thought about on numerous occasions.

I believe that there are times when events and people align purposefully. Shively and I attending an event where neither of us knew anyone seems a little too chance to be anything other than purposeful by design.

Who am I to push him away and ignore all the signs that Shively Myers is the man I’ve been waiting for since the moment I began longing for a submissive? That person has always had Shively’s demeanor, but until recently, the vision of that person always kept their head bowed.

Now, he’s looking up at me with beautiful blue eyes that hide a soft, sweet submissive man behind his professional exterior. He’s mine to take care of. Mine to guide. Mine to take pleasure in.

I think he knows this too. That’s why he sought me out on the mountain by the lake. He knows he’s mine. He knows he comes to me when he wants something.

Shively knows what he wants, even if he’s too afraid to say it out loud.